


Of Mice and Lucifer

by gwenwifar



Series: Post season 4 Deckerstar [5]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Gratuitous Smut, Lucifer tries to be human, Maze to the rescue, Plot Twisty, dramatic gesture, oops there goes canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenwifar/pseuds/gwenwifar
Summary: Lucifer finds the can't deal with the uncertainty of being on Earth "until further notice" and decides it's time to become fully human so he can no longer be King of Hell.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Post season 4 Deckerstar [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550395
Comments: 23
Kudos: 190





	1. Until Further Notice

They were at the penthouse when a restless feeling began to settle in Lucifer’s stomach. Chloe was curled into his side, sound asleep, her hair fanned out over his arm. He had been thinking about how peaceful she looked, and then how everyone that mattered in his life was safe. The wonder of the moment filled him. They were safe. They knew who he was, and they had welcomed who he was into their daily lives. For a moment, he was truly, blissfully, happy. That kind of deep in your bones happy that you can’t get from cocaine or orgies or endless strings of one-night stands. The kind of happy he’d only glimpsed before in certain songs.

He was afraid to trust it. It seemed, somehow, too good to last. Lucifer’s arm closed around Chloe, tugged her a tiny bit closer, and started scanning for threats. Within moments Michael’s words came back to him. “Until further notice,” he’d said. And suddenly that was entirely too vague. How long was that? How long did he have here, with his new family?  
He found that he couldn’t stay in bed any longer and he slowly got up, trying not to disturb Chloe. He slipped on a dressing gown, tried to calm himself at the balcony and when that didn’t work, went back inside and started pacing as quietly as he could. Pacing wasn’t really helping either.

He needed to find those papers. The lists they’d made back before he went to Hell, when they were looking for a permanent solution. He needed those papers. Where were they? He tried to be quiet, but as he opened yet another drawer, the sense of urgency mounted, and soon finding those papers became more important than not disturbing Chloe’s sleep and he started noisily digging through drawers and cabinets.

He was sitting on the sofa, staring at one of the pages when Chloe got up and made her way to him, still half asleep.

“We have to make me human,” he said. “As soon as possible. How do we do that?”

The urgency in his tone dragged her into full awareness faster than any cup of coffee.

“Good morning to you too.”

oOoOo

They didn’t know, of course. But over the next day they came up with a plan. They knew that Lucifer’s idea of himself shaped who he was and what he could do. So, for starters, they were going to work on making Lucifer see himself as human.

He would stay close to her all the time. Within the range of the vulnerability effect. He would stop using his mojo. He would keep his wings and his devil face tucked away unless absolutely necessary. He would not do anything a human couldn’t do outside of a dire emergency situation. He would stop talking about being the devil all the time. This would require adjustments in his routine. If he couldn’t use his mojo, he’d have to obey traffic laws. If he was always close to Chloe, he’d have to forego, or at least greatly reduce, his drug intake. He would have to stop being reckless with his own safety. A ridiculous number of small adjustments, now that he thought of it. But small adjustments nonetheless.

It seemed like such an enormous amount of change, and yet not enough to make him forget who he was under the surface. He wanted to do more, he felt driven to do more. But he could see Chloe had reservations even about this much.

oOo

Chloe had a very bad feeling when she found him bent over that page, and it only got worse as he laid out what he was thinking. She had tried to talk him out of it. Of course she had. They were finally happy. He finally knew what it was to be welcomed and loved exactly as he was. It felt horribly like betrayal to help him hide and change part of himself. 

But it was clearly important to him, and she told herself that if this was what he wanted, she should support him. She understood the urgency. She didn’t like the uncertainty either. She hated not knowing if he might have to go back to Hell without warning. And well, any idea that led to less drug use and less risk couldn’t be all bad, right? Lucifer would still be Lucifer, just less reckless. Plus, if they were going to be attached at the hip for a while, they could find ways to make it interesting.

She convinced him to talk to Linda about it before they tried anything else, but this seemed a safe enough adjustment. How bad could it be?


	2. Human Lucifer

It was horrible. Completely heartbreaking. Chloe watched him walk in, the same devilish smile on his face, and the same coffee cups in his hands, but there was no spark in his eyes. He stopped at all the usual desks, going through all the motions. She was well into the paperwork when he finally arrived at her desk, despite the fact that they came in together. He could do this, right? He just needed to get used to the limitations of being human.

He sat at his usual spot by her desk and took a sip from his flask. The extremely watered-down whiskey inside was completely unsatisfying, she knew, but it had taken all of a few hours into his first day as a human to realize that he was going to need to give up his favorite treat. He’d become intoxicated in a ridiculous short amount of time, after a ridiculously small amount of booze, and counted himself fortunate that it was their day off and he could just go back to bed and sleep it off. It was mostly water in his flask now, but there was still a bit of flavor to it, and it was all he could do to settle. 

All the small things he’d had to live without in the last 3 days were making him exceptionally moody. Surely by now he should be getting used to it. He shuffled impatiently in his seat. It wasn’t hard. Just boring. He hated to be bored. Chloe had been trying to keep him entertained, but not much was holding his attention. He was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, it seemed. And today she had an idea for introducing some healthy adrenaline into the situation. Totally safe, non-reckless adrenaline. 

She’d been thinking about it for a couple of days, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself yesterday. Today, if an opportunity didn’t present itself, she would create it. But as it turned out, opportunity came knocking mid-morning, when a couple of unis brought in a suspect they needed to interrogate. They were pretty sure he was their guy, but the evidence wasn’t there yet. 

It didn’t go well. The guy didn’t say much to start with, and he grew less cooperative as they went. Lucifer’s body language spoke considerably louder. He was frustrated. He tried to commiserate, then needle the suspect into letting something slip and when neither approach produced results, she could see the energy drain from him. This is where he would normally have used his mojo, of course. Leaned in and ask the man what he desired. That wasn’t an option today, and she saw his shoulders slump, and his expression close up.  
The suspect refused to say anything further without taking to a lawyer, and Chloe called the unis to take him to a holding cell. Then she closed and locked the door. Schooling her expression into her best bad cop impression, she turned around to find Lucifer standing a step behind her, as he’d been about to follow her out the door.

She planted her hand on his chest and backed him up.

“We need to talk.”

She sounded rather more severe than she’d intended, and she saw the way his eyes went darker, doubtful. One step at a time, she walked him into the suspect chair, and pushed him into it. By the time he’d recovered enough of his wits to shuffle into a more comfortable position he found he had been cuffed to the chair. He tugged experimentally, and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“What a shame you can’t get out of those without your mojo.”

He heard a click as she tightened them slightly and shuffled into a better sitting position. His head was still down as she walked around to the table. He kept it there, enjoying the moment. Then he reminded himself he had a role to play, and tugged harder, made himself look nice and trapped, with a big dollop of defiant and a hint of fear.

“Detective? What is the meaning of this?”

She unbuttoned her coat, and sat on the edge of the table, directly between Lucifer and the two-way window. Just in case. The coat flared out from her sides as she sat, providing a bit more cover and she placed her foot at the edge of his chair.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

She shuffled back a bit more, her foot edging closer to his crotch.

“I’m afraid I have no idea.”

“I think you do,” she leaned a little in his direction, “and I’d advise you that things will go a lot easier for you if you cooperate.” 

He felt himself shift, sliding down in the chair, as if trying to meet her foot halfway. She slid her foot until her toes were resting lightly over his crotch. He yanked the cuffs again, mostly to cover the soft moan he couldn’t hold back.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked, keeping his voice small and hesitant.

“Let’s say you’re… detained.” She curled her toes briefly.

“There are laws against this,” he pointed out.

“Are there?” she leaned forward, her foot getting pushed into him more firmly with the shift in her weight. This time he moaned louder, and hoped it sounded more like he was struggling than thanking his lucky stars. If he was ever again in a position to do so he would have to give them some extra special sparkle in appreciation.

She inched closer, and he felt his breath quicken, his nose flare, his eyes closing to hide the not at all in character fire than had filled them. 

“Hide all you want,” Chloe growled, her foot sliding off the chair to be replaced by her knee nestled right up between his thighs. She felt him twitch and harden. She nudged closer. Her index finger pushed into the spot right between his collarbones, then scratched its way up and around his neck. “But you can’t hide forever.” 

Her fingers sank into his hair, gripping and pulling his head back. She let her body brush ever so slightly against his, and then tugged harder. 

“You will tell me what I want to know. _Anything_ I want to know.”

Sliding her hand down, she let her nails sink slightly into the back of his neck, then flattened it and brought it around until her palm was planted in the center of his chest. She gave a push that rocked his chair briefly, and walked to the door, winking over her shoulder as she unlocked it.

“Think about it.” 

And she left him cuffed to the chair.

oOo

He heard her tell Ella that he was having a hard time and needed a minute. He didn’t hear the door lock and wondered what exactly he’d say if anyone walked into the room to find him in this situation. Then he wondered what she was planning exactly. How long she’d be gone and what she meant to do when she returned. And then he entertained himself thinking about what he was going to do about it. Which, he realized, was exactly what she’d intended. 

The more he thought about it, the harder it got. He kept shifting, trying to get comfortable, but for once his fashion sense was working against him. These pants weren’t really designed to comfortably accommodate an erection while zipped up and sitting down. And it didn’t help that as he tried to get comfortable, he kept rubbing against the soft fabric.

Chloe watched from the other side of the two-way window until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Her watch said it had been all of 5 minutes but her blood pressure registered at least half an eternity. She would breeze in there, casually mention a witness they needed to go talk to and release the cuffs. If she could pull it off, she could keep that sparkle in his eyes for another couple of hours. Maybe even until lunch. 

Well laid plans… well… everyone knows what happens to those.

She strode in, nothing at all betraying recent events except her slightly awkward flush. She looked like she had been looking for him, said something about going to meet a witness as his wrists were released. He stood up, squared his shoulders, adjusted his coat. Casual, professional. Right. He followed her right up until the door, let her think he was politely complying. Right about where she’d stopped earlier, he froze, reached past her to turn the lock. Then he spun her around and pushed her back into the wall, out of view of the window.

“On second thought, I do have something I want to tell you.”

“You do?” she managed not to whimper, but just barely. Somehow, his hands seemed to be everywhere, and in another heartbeat her pants seemed to be on the floor.

“If you _ever_ do that again,” he groaned into her neck, wrapping her legs around him, “wear a skirt.”

She arched against him, her hips egging him on.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And then he slid into her and she forgot all about her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Lucifer still has powers he can use in emergency situations, and that Chloe was still watching, even if she went to the other side of the window. And this is fiction, where nothing happens unless I want it to. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT ever leave someone who is restrained alone in the real world. That is all.


	3. Out of the frying pan

It was Friday night, which meant Lucifer was in attendance at the latest wild party at Lux. Which meant Chloe was in attendance. She’d pulled out one of the few party dresses that still lived in the back of her closet for the occasion. It was almost 2 am, and it felt as if the party had been going on for weeks. 

She’d gone around at Lucifer’s side for a while but had removed herself to a table when it occurred to her that perhaps she was cramping his style. He wasn’t the social butterfly she’d grown used to with her hanging from his arm. But since sitting down, she’d been watching the light drain from him in small stages every time he was offered a drink or a line of coke and had to turn it down. 

It wasn’t so much the coke, she felt, but the having to turn it down part. He had been nothing if not committed to this idea. He had been unflinching in his determination to live as a human in hopes of actually becoming human. But he valued free will above anything and having tied his own hands grated. He was freely choosing to be bound, of course. Lucifer wouldn’t have accepted any bonds that weren’t self-imposed. But he was bound nonetheless.

He kept flitting through the party, playing the attentive host, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. She could see it from across the room. Maze could see it from behind the bar. It was a testament who how little they knew him that nobody else could see it at all. She thought about dragging him up to the penthouse but suspected he wouldn’t abandon the party that easily. Perhaps she could provide an incentive.

He was in the process of turning down yet another offer (some kind of pill this time), when she cut in. Trying to put urgency in her voice, she tugged on him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a situation that needs attention right now.”

He followed her willingly enough as she led the way to the back of the club, around a corner and into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind them. He looked around, confused for half a second before it dawned on him that it had been a ruse.

“This is your emergency?” he was teetering between captivated and annoyed.

“I didn’t say _emergency_ ,” she pointed out, crowding him until he was resting against the sink. Her hand splayed over his heart, then slid down his body and made straight for his zipper. “I also didn’t say it the situation needed _your_ attention.”

She had his zipper down and her hand in his underwear in another moment, and as she worked his cock free of the clothing she explained.

“The situation is, this party is going strong and neither one of us is having any fun.”

He found he couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t. Her hand was now stroking him hard and on further reflection he found that actually, he couldn’t argue with any part of this at all.

“So I thought you could use some personal attention,” she concluded.

He shifted in her hand, encouragingly. 

“I could.”

She nibbled at his neck, then his ear.

“I also thought, we can’t tie up the bathroom for very long with all these people here. So, Mr. Morningstar, I have a deal for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she leaned into him.

“I get you off in 5 minutes or less, and you send them all home.”

And without giving him a chance to think about it, she slid down his body and took his cock into her mouth. She watched his eyes glaze over, then drift closed as she worked her tongue around the head. Normally, she liked to take her time and tease him to the point of madness with her tongue. She’d never actually rushed through this, but at this point in their relationship he knew him, quite literally, inside and out, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to make it happen. She took him in deeper and reached for his belt, hurriedly undoing his pants so she had room to slide a hand between his thighs. 

He made a few adjustments to his stance, and she pulled out just long enough to give a couple of fingers a nice coating of saliva before pressing her thumb right behind his scrotum and sending her fingers looking for his rim. She heard him moan and felt like she was making good progress. Chloe let it build for a minute, then made her next move and went for his prostate. She knew exactly where to find it and how to put it to good use. 

When he came in record time, she tried not to be too smug about it as she approached the sink to wash her hands and he adjusted his clothes back into position. 

“Why do they need to be gone, now that we’re done with the bathroom?” he asked, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her hips.

“It’s not so much the bathroom as all the extra fun we could be having if they weren’t here,” she explained through her smug smile.

He studied her dress carefully as he slid his hands down her hips and to the hem.

“In that case,” he purred “I’ll propose an addendum to our deal.”

His hands slid up under her dress and found the wet edge of her thong. 

“I get you off in 2 minutes or less and you’ll join me at the piano once they’re all gone. Or rather on the piano. Wearing just this.” He tugged on the thong to clarify.

She pushed back into him, allowing him more room to move in.

“You’re on.” 

“That I am, he growled.”

oOo

They walked out of the bathroom, neither one of them pointing out that at no time had anyone actually checked the time. Lucifer went directly to the middle of the floor to grab the mic on the piano and get everyone out with some excuse about a gas leak or electrical problem, while Chloe headed for the bar to wait for the crowd to clear.

“What’s wrong?” Maze wanted to know.

“Uh?” 

“With Lucifer. What’s wrong with Lucifer?”

Chloe stopped playing dumb.

“He’s not dealing well with living as a normal human, I guess. It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

“He’s what?” Maze was clearly not amused, and Chloe backed up and started at the beginning. By the time Maze was caught up, she was fuming. She pulled Chloe into the back as assorted bartenders called Ubers for those who were too drunk to drive, and as soon as they were alone, Maze was off.

“Idiot! He’s always making these dramatic moves and he doesn’t think this stuff through. You have to stop him!”

“I don’t like it either, to be honest, but how bad could it be to just be less reckless?”

“What if it works and he becomes human? He can’t turn human. You can’t let him!”

It was slowly dawning on Chloe that Maze herself had become rather more human of late, and maybe there was something more to her objections than just not liking the idea of Lucifer changing further.

“Why not? What am I missing?” she asked.

“Idiots, both of you!” she started pacing, worked up into a good rant now about people who don’t bother to look at what they’re jumping into, and don’t think things through.

“Sure, make me human and I can’t be King of Hell, problem solved. That’s just like Lucifer, always jumping out of the frying pan and into the hellfire, but really, Chloe, I thought you were more careful than that.”

Chloe sat up straighter now, trying to make sense out of Maze’s anger and draw useful information from her rant. 

“Sure, if he’s human he can’t be King of Hell, but then what, Chloe? What happens after that little problem is solved? You know what happens to mortal people, Chloe? They die!”

Chloe grabbed on to that first clue and kept listening.

“And the way Lucifer keeps jumping in front of bullets for you, that’s what? A few days after he goes mortal? A week? And you know what mortal people can’t do when they die, Chloe? They can’t come right back from Hell and get back into their bodies and get on with their lives.”

She’d worked herself up into a good head of steam now and she was really getting into her topic.

“Bet you didn’t think of that, did you? You know what else you didn’t think of? He’s banished from Heaven, so the only place human Lucifer goes when he dies is right into a Hell loop. It’s one thing to die and get stuck in Hell when you’re the king, Chloe, and another one to go down as a human and get stuck in your own hell loop, with no control whatsoever over what happens to you down there.”

Chloe’s eyes widened as suddenly it became very clear that this was definitely not a good idea.

“Let’s not even think about how some of the demons would love to get their hands on him if he were powerless to defend himself. Or Michael.”

She finally stopped right in front of Chloe and pointed an index finger with a long black nail at her.

“I know that Lucifer doesn’t always think things through, and even when he does he would sacrifice anything, even eternity, to hang with you for a while. But I didn’t think you were stupid enough to let him.”


	4. About going to Hell

Lucifer got out of bed to find that Chloe was already up. He went to start the coffee and then headed to the shower. It was pretty clear as he approached the door, however, that Chloe was in there. He could hear the water, but to his amusement, he could also hear her singing.

_I've got a dream 'bout a boy on a star  
Lookin' down upon the rim of the world _

He didn’t recognize the song, but he found it an interesting choice. He stepped closer quietly, listening.

_He's there all alone and dreamin' of someone like me  
I'm not an angel but at least I'm a girl _

He raised his eyebrow as he walked through the door and leaned against the bathroom sink.

_I've got a dream when the darkness is over_  
_We'll be lyin' in the rings of the sun  
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real_

He watched her turn to reach for the shampoo or something and spot him. She stopped singing abruptly and reached for the shower door.

“Good morning,” he went for his most charming tone, absurdly pleased that she’d been singing in his shower. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed. 

“Are you just going to stand there or were you here to get in the shower?” she asked.

oOo

She had been mulling over this conversation they needed to have all night which, she supposed, was why she’d been singing about angels and boys at all. And about dreams and the uncertainty of the future. Tonight is indeed all we really have, she mused.

She tried to ease her way into the conversation, but she couldn’t find an opening as they ate their breakfast, and by the time they were clearing away dishes she knew she knew that she was just stalling. 

“Lucifer, sit down. We need to talk about this going human plan.”

“It’s perhaps not progressing as fast as I’d like,” he said, “but I’m still getting used to the limitations of being fully human. Did you have an idea that might help?”

“Actually, we need to scrap the whole thing. I’ve been thinking about it and it’s just not a good idea after all.” She rushed, trying to predict what objections he’d come up with and address them right away.

“I mean, sure. If you turn human you can’t be king of Hell, so that would solve one problem. But we never really stopped to think about what else it would do. And honestly, it would create more problems than it would solve. And probably would mean we would have less, not more, time together.”

Lucifer frowned. He’d instinctively started to gear up to argue his point, but he noticed how serious she looked. She’d given it some thought. He should hear her out before trotting out his objections.

“I don’t follow. How would we have less time if I can’t be made to go rule Hell?”

She smiled. She hadn’t thought of it either, but now that it had been pointed out to her, it was so glaringly obvious that it amused her that in all their planning it had occurred to neither of them that making Lucifer mortal would in fact mean he could die from any number of things that couldn’t hurt him now.

“You could die. Really die. We could be out chasing some murderer and he could kill you and you wouldn’t be able to come back. Or you could get pneumonia, or get in a car crash, or slip in the shower, or OD on tainted drugs, or any number of other things could happen. Humans die all the time. None of us really know how long we have.”

And now that she was saying that she saw an opening and went deeper.

“I know that not knowing how long Mikey is going to sit on the throne in your place is probably driving you crazy with uncertainty. Right now, though, there is exactly one thing threatening to pull you away against your will, and if you were human there would be a lot more… you’d have even less free will.”

She moved closer, feeling compelled to touch him, and reached for his neck, gently stroking it as if she was trying to soothe a nervous animal.

“I make you vulnerable now, and you could die, but if you do you can choose to come back. That would be gone. You wouldn’t be able to use your mojo no matter the size of the emergency. And if you die you go to Hell either way. At least if you go now you can be the King, checking in. If you go as a human, you have no control over what happens to you there and you can't leave.”

She didn't think he'd care too much about the torture of his own hell loop, so she focused on the being able to come back part.

“You have a point. How did we not think about this?”

He was deep in thought now, working through the possibilities in his head. She could almost see him resolving a few, checking them off. She was very much afraid he was about to announce a way he could go human and somehow make sure he wouldn’t die and really, she didn’t want to ponder a Lucifer even more restricted and shored up, so unlike the man she loved.

“And while you’re thinking about it, I have something else for you to consider.”

He looked up, his eyes asking what else they could have missed.

“You have been working so hard at being human. I am impressed at how seriously you stuck with it. But the light is fading from your eyes and it’s like all the joy is drained out if you.”

She paused, choosing her words carefully.

“None of us know how much time we have, Lucifer. In life, or with our loved ones. But whatever time I have left with you, I want to spend with you, not this shadow of the man you are. All of you. The you that drives too fast and flirts with everyone. The you that charms his way through anything life throws at you, makes inappropriate jokes at crime scenes, and jumps in front of throwing axes. The you that has angel wings and hellfire in his eyes. I’m not willing to sacrifice any part of you for the sake of some additional time we might not get anyway.”

She dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead, and moved away, nervous now, needing a little distance. Was it working? Was he really listening to her? What else could she say? What could she add to this that he’d care about? She started pacing. He looked puzzled, but not convinced. Her mind reached for something else, something that would matter to him.

“And besides…”

It suddenly dawned on her that it was always about protecting her for Lucifer. 

“And besides, there’s a good chance I might end up in Hell myself, in the end. All things considered, I’d rather have an in with the guy in charge.”

She saw his eyes widen, rejecting the idea right away.

“I suppose I could try to put the moves on Mikey, but - ”

“You are NOT going to Hell.” He cut in, not letting her make light of the suggestion.

“I wouldn’t be too sure. Even if I do initially go to Heaven, I have a feeling your dear old dad is going to want to have a chat about that prayer business and when that happens I have a few strong feelings I will share with him about his choices for you. In general, how would he say he feels about people questioning his choices and calling him out?”

“You can’t go to Hell, Chloe.”

Chloe stopped pacing and faced him squarely, her arms crossed in front of her.

“I’m NOT abandoning you for a seat at the mean girl’s table, Lucifer. I don’t want to sit at any table that would exclude you without good reason.”

“Chloe - ”

She knew he was about to argue the point, and she wasn’t going to let him.

“Don’t. This choice is mine to make and I’ve made it. I will not cower like a coward, or pretend I regret a single moment between us. I will not stand by while anyone scapegoats you or tries to tell me you’re evil.”

She saw his eyes lower, and he didn’t argue. She hesitated to go on. Was it too much to throw at him all at once? She worried it might be, but now that they’d made it this far, she didn’t want to stop short.

“So, that brings us to the next question. What does a girl have to do around here to score a gig as the Queen of Hell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is called "Tonight is what it means to be young" and if you haven't heard it, you totally should.


	5. Persephone rising

“What?” He stuttered.

“How does a girl become the queen of Hell? I hope the Queen doesn’t need wings, I don’t suppose she’d sit on the throne, so it should be fine that I don’t have them. What does the Queen of Hell do, anyway?”

He was still reeling, she could see it. She felt like she was bullying him into this, hitting him with all of it before he had a chance to recover and think things through. He’d have time for all that later. But she wanted it to be clear to him in all his thinking that she wanted to do this. It was no sacrifice, no compromise, nothing she’d regret.

“I don’t know. Hell’s never had a queen. I suppose her job would be to keep me happy. Or at least entertained.” 

That sounded more like Lucifer. Chloe sidled up to him again, sliding her arms around his neck.

“I think I can do that.”

He hesitated.

“I don’t think you’d like it very much,” he ruminated. When he saw her frown he added, “Hell, I mean.”

“How about this? I’ll give you a chance of talking me out of it. Tell me everything you think I’d hate, or be scared of, or whatever. And then if after all that I decide I still want the gig, you help me get ready for it.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he agreed. But clearly he didn’t want to tell Chloe any of this.

He sat and reached for something she’d hate but not find terrifying. 

“There’d have to be rules,” he finally offered. “I have to be the absolute ruler down there. Unquestionable. Above reproach. That would mean that at least in public I’d have to be -” he looked for the right words “I’d have to be in charge. You couldn’t question any decision I make, or express disapproval of or in any way be seen to oppose anything I do. I would have to punish you if you did. Not in the fun way. You’d have to be - or at least appear to be – another one of my subjects, albeit one who’s allowed a few liberties. Suitably obedient.”

He wasn’t sure if he was proud of himself for finding the perfect way to turn her off the idea right off the bat or depressed that it would be this easy to change her mind, truth be told. The ambivalence resolved itself into surprise when he heard her chuckle a bit.

“Well, I can’t say it sounds like fun, but I can learn to live with that. I can see why it’s necessary and provided that in private I am free to be my opinionated, argumentative self, I can make it work. It will be like going under cover. Deep cover. I could even get some training for it, actually. Courtesy of the LAPD. Speaking of, we’re going to be late for work.”

Lucifer nodded, reaching for his jacket. He was afraid to believe his best argument could be that easily dismissed. He would bring it up again, and again, to make sure she understood how impossible this was. All else aside, he was thrilled to have some time to think. This wasn’t going to be easy.

oOo 

Over the next few days he brought up every thing he could think of, from the nasty smell that pervaded anywhere (If I can smell it, I can go nose blind to it, she’d argued) to the annoying - almost bureaucratic - details that came with keeping track of who was where and what they were guilty of and what punishment they deserved at all times (she could do the paperwork, as she was used to, in their partnership). But over and over again he kept coming back to the two arguments he refused to have easily dismissed. She’d have to obey him, and she’d miss her family, who would be in Heaven.

It was Sunday morning, and they were curled up in bed when it occurred to her that maybe it wasn’t so much that he couldn’t believe she was willing to live with it as that he wasn’t. Lucifer had always been about free will first and foremost. The idea that being with him would limit her ability to exercise her free will might just be at the bottom of why he refused to accept her answer. And maybe this insistence on how much she’d miss her family in Heaven was connected to how much he’d missed his family when he’d found himself there. Trixie had asked him once if he missed his father. _“I loved him,”_ he’d said. _“Sometimes I wonder if I still do.”_

Chloe realized that just telling him she was willing to live with this wasn’t going to be good enough. She curled into his side and snuggled up closer, trying to figure out what she would say when he inevitably brought it up again.

As it turned out, she only had about 2 hours, and she hadn’t actually come up with anything before she’d playfully shoved him out of the way while she was making breakfast and he started on about how in Hell she’d have to obey him. Taking a deep breath, Chloe made herself reframe this issue as a free will and Lucifer issue rather than as a Chloe not getting absolutely everything she wants issue.

“You said Hell has never had a queen, right?”

She’d mostly asked to interrupt the rant, but her gut and her training made her think than maybe some exploring of this would lead to a clue. 

“That’s right.”

“Is there some kind of legend or prophecy about a queen?”

“None that I’m aware of. At least - ”

Lucifer made himself think.

“There seems to be a sort of sense that there could be one someday. From the human souls, mostly, but the demons have heard it expressed. But that’s all.”

Chloe thought about the implications of that.

“So, if I’m a demon, I know there may one day be a queen, but what do I know about what a queen is and what her role might be?”

“You know the queen would be the king’s -” he hesitated, unsure what word to use “mate, I suppose. And subject to the king’s authority as you are. But probably not much else.”

Ah, there was the answer. Chloe, held on to it carefully, her hands buttering toast as if it was the most intricate task she’d ever undertaken.

“Lucifer, I trust you implicitly. When it comes to Hell, I trust you to know better than I do, and I trust you to have my safety and happiness at heart. Whatever you think is best is what I’ll do. What we’ll do. I don’t feel bound or compelled in any way, my will isn’t less free. I choose to listen to the person who understands all the aspects of the situation better than I do.”

She put the toast down now and faced him.

“I think there may be one aspect of the situation you’re missing, however. You’re the king. If there are no established rules about what the queen’s role is, then you get to decide what it is. I don’t get to break rules with impunity, I get that, and I agree it’s necessary. But you get to define what the rules are. You can make them rules we can both live with.”

She saw him ponder this for a moment.

“If there’s one thing motherhood and law enforcement have taught me, it is that discipline isn’t maintained by rules, but by people. It’s not how strict the rules are, it’s how strictly you enforce them.”

Deciding that she’d given him something to think about, she quickly shifted, not wanting him to argue this particular point before giving it some thought.

“Anyway, I was thinking earlier about this missing my family thing. Would it be possible to visit?.”

She didn’t give him time to respond, blundering along.

“I mean, maybe Amenadiel or Rae-Rae could fly me to the gates, and I could visit with my family every now and then, just for a little while. Or maybe we could exchange messages somehow. It’s not so very unlike living across the country from each other. Humans do that all the time. Communication with them from time to time would be enough.”

She kept going on about how Amenadiel would definitely be willing to carry a letter to Heaven, if there was a way to deliver it to her family, mostly to keep him busy with that idea and away from the queen’s rules for the moment, but the more she blathered on the more she thought this was feasible.

“We might be able to do better,” Lucifer interrupted. “We’d have to get approval from dad, of course. And there are logistics to work out. But as long as you’re not locked out, you should be able to come and go between Heaven and Hell, with a little assistance.”

Chloe stopped eating.

“Maybe it could be my “punishment” from the prayer thing. You know, I’m allowed in Heaven to visit, but not really a resident, as it were. After a while, I have to return to Hell.”

She kissed him hard then, loving the idea. He watched the smile on her face widen and shook his head, amused despite himself.

“You look too pleased at the idea.”

She kissed him again, chuckled.

“It worked for Persephone, right?”

And she dug into her breakfast with gusto.


	6. Cutting edge

She wasn’t quite sure he was entirely convinced, but a few days later Lucifer was out talking to Amenadiel about how to approach god with what they were now calling the Persephone plan. They were going to talk to Rae Rae together, to discuss the possibility of shuttling Chloe between Heaven and Hell in the event they were actually going to do this.

Chloe was excited. She should probably have been scared, but the more she thought about it, the less she feared it. If any part of her was going to exist after her death, then she wanted it to be free, as much as it could be. Her life would be what? 80 years, if she was lucky? Maybe 100? And after… her soul would live on forever. Eternally reliving the same 80 years sounded painfully awful, whichever direction she took it. Worse when she factored in that it wouldn’t even be that but only certain significant moments in those years. Whether that was her best memories or her worst fears, she’d be just as trapped.

No, she wanted to be out of that loop. She wanted her afterlife to involve new memories. Going places, doing things. Maybe she and Lucifer could go back to Earth for a vacay now and then, see how LA was evolving through the years. How the world went on after LA and even humanity was gone. She didn’t even know what the possibilities were. But even if all she ever did was go back and forth between Heaven and Hell she wouldn’t be stuck in her own ancient memories. She could get used to anything but that.

Lucifer seemed to have abandoned efforts to talk her out of it, at least for the moment. But before she managed to get comfortable in this new plan, it suddenly dawned on her that there was a problem. 

What if she had the same effect on Lucifer in Hell? What if she made him as vulnerable there as she made him here? Sooner or later, it would become apparent and then what? Every minor demon would know they could hurt him if he was near her, and Hell was not the sort of place where a leader could afford to be vulnerable.

She was embarrassed that her first impulse was to hide her concern from Lucifer. He’d have said something if that was going to be a problem, right? He would have thought of it, he’d been trying to talk her out of it for days, and this would have been a good argument. But had he not brought it up because it wasn’t a problem, or because he hadn’t thought of it? They’d have to talk about it, of course. If he had thought about it and decided it wouldn’t be a problem, he could set her mind at ease. And if it was a problem, they could plan for it, somehow.

oOo

He was chopping vegetables and telling her about his visit with Amenadiel when he sensed that something was troubling her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I thought of something. It’s probably nothing, you probably already thought of it, but I hadn’t and it kinda freaked me out, I -” she took a deep breath. “I’m rambling, sorry.”

“Nervous, Detective? Changed your own mind, or something?”

She wondered if he would be relieved or worried, when that thought occurred, but he seemed neither. Amused, maybe, in a grim sort of way.

“Lucifer I was thinking…” she hesitated again and decided to stop trying to find the right words and just blurt it out already. 

“Go on,” he encouraged. This time she saw concern in his eyes.

“What if I make you vulnerable? In Hell. What if I join you there, and we get settled, and then all of Hell discovers that you can be hurt when I’m around?”

The knife slipped as the implications hit him, bounced off the cutting board, and as he instinctively tried to stop its fall to the floor, he felt a sting and realized he’d closed his fingers around the sharp blade. Quickly reaching for a towel, he headed to the sink and opened his hand in it. And every thought faded immediately. There was no blood.

Lucifer studied his fingers, looked for broken skin. Perhaps the knife was duller than he thought. But it had been cutting the vegetables in the usual efficient fashion. Maybe he’d lucked out and gripped the blade in an oddly specific way that prevented any abrasion or cut to the skin. But he had felt the sting of the sharp edge against his fingers, on the fleshy bit between the knuckles. He lifted it up and ran it under the hot water, then lifted his hand and ran the tip across his palm, pushing ever so slightly. 

“Lucifer?”

Chloe had materialized next to his shoulder with a first aid kit but chuckled in relief when she saw no blood.

“I could swear I saw you grip the cutting edge of that blade,” she explained. “And then when you headed for the sink I thought for sure…”

Without a word, Lucifer turned his hand and took the knife to his arm, pressing harder this time. 

“Lucifer!”

They watched a small cut appear on his arm, and a line of blood droplets forming on it. Lucifer sat down, letting Chloe clean his arm as she started firing a volley of questions about what he was doing cutting his arm and why he did it. He wasn’t listening, though. He needed the emotional roller coaster he was on to dock so he could think and figure this out.

First, he’d been both panicked at the idea of being vulnerable in Hell, and a bit morosely relieved that maybe Chloe wouldn’t be going to Hell after all. Then the startled moment when the knife stuttered and dropped, the feeling of the razor-sharp blade as his fingers closed around it, the realization that she was standing right there and he wasn’t cut or bleeding. What did it mean?

He had not been this lost since the day he discovered his vulnerability. He’d initially not known what to think. Then, with Linda’s help, worked around to thinking perhaps he was vulnerable because she had feelings for him, only to eventually realize the foolishness of that idea when he learned that he was vulnerable near her because of his own feelings for her, loath as he had been to name them. But he knew their name now. He loved her, even back then.

Which begged the question – if his love for her made him vulnerable when she was near him, what did it mean that she was standing right there and that knife hadn’t cut him? Was his love fading? Was something wrong between them? Was he about to go super bad boyfriend 2.0?

When he’d ran the blade across his hand and it still hadn’t cut him, he felt the dread build inside him. And then she was there, as close as she could get with all their clothes still on and he tried again, pressing harder. He needed it to cut, to bleed, as much as he needed his next breath. He needed the assurance that they were still real, that he was not about to hurt Chloe like this. She was gearing up to go to Hell for him. He could not, _would not_ , throw that love in her face. And then there was blood. Not as much as there should be, but there was blood. He felt the relief tear through him.

He loved her as much as he ever had. Maybe more. Didn’t he?


	7. Best of times

It was the best of times. It was also a horrible 3 days. 

Every morning since the knife incident Lucifer had gotten up while Chloe was in the shower and cut his arm over the bathroom sink. He heaved a huge sigh of relief at the sight of blood, and let that relief carry him through their day. He was at his most charming, from the moment Chloe stepped out of the shower until they were clearing away the dinner dishes and he cut his arm again over the kitchen sink. There was never a scar left by that point. But there was blood, and that was enough despite the dread settling over him. 

It was getting harder. He’d needed a sharper blade the second morning. Last evening he’d seen blood, but when he moved his arm under the water to clean the cut he found that the cut had already healed completely. There wasn’t so much as a faded scar left. No sign at all that the skin had ever been damaged. He was not only healing in her presence now, he was healing faster than he ever had before in her absence. By the third morning, he’d had to use one of Maze’s hell blades. 

He knew he was cheating. He had always been vulnerable to hell blades. But not even his sharpest blade would cut his arm anymore, and he couldn’t face the day without seeing a cut. He made that the best day they’d ever had together. Work was delightful. He reached for everything she needed before she asked for it, and presented it with charm and grace. He surprised her with a special lunch, served by waiters in tuxes in the interrogation room, while other (slightly less dressed up) staff served gourmet food to the entire precinct. They caught their murderer in a flawless display of teamwork. They picked up Trixie after school, grabbed dinner to go and went to eat it on a blanket, watching the sun set over the ocean.

It was so perfect, in fact, that as she went to shower the beach dust off her skin before going to bed, Chloe realized she was waiting for something big. Lucifer was always charming, but this was the kind of charm that was building up to something. She considered the possibilities, discarded everything from a planned proposal to an announcement that he was somehow dying. She felt she was pretty thorough. She stepped out of the shower to find Lucifer frantically going at his arm with a hell blade. She had definitely not considered that.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t flinch. Chloe would wager her next paycheck he didn’t hear her.

“Lucifer!”

And when he didn’t respond to his name, her training took over and she moved to pull the blade from him. When he didn’t let go, she had to force it out of his hand, and cut him in the process. At the sight of his blood (wow that was a lot of blood) two things happened. Lucifer snapped out of whatever daze he’d been in, the tension leaving his body so violently he dropped against the wall. And Chloe suddenly realized that he’d been slashing at his arm with Maze’s hell blade since she set eyes on him at least, but there had been no cuts until she yanked the blade from him and cut him in the process. 

“Lucifer! I’m sorry - ” 

She reached for a towel to press against the cut and stem the bleeding. He’d wiped his arm with his shirt, and she dropped against the shower door, the towel still gripped in her hand, when she realized the cut was closed, barely more than a welt. As she stared at it, it visibly faded into barely a scar, and then was gone as if it had never existed.

“I’m - ” Lucifer found he really didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t understand it either,” he finally settled on.

“I’ll call Maze.”

oOo

In a strange reversal of what they’d done years ago when Lucifer first discovered his vulnerability, they were going through a round of tests. Back then he’d been oddly fascinated, even thrilled, by the discovery. Now, not so much.

Chloe was watching this time, not sure how to feel about it. Maze went through all the blades. Not a single one cut Lucifer. Not even the hell blade. Not even a scratch. Then Lucifer tried all the blades. Nothing. No blood, no marks. 

“You said when Chloe yanked the blade off your hand it cut you, right?”

When Lucifer’s nod confirmed that she was correct, Maze handed the blades to Chloe. She looked for the smallest, least threatening blade in the set, something in her rebelling against the idea of calmly and deliberately cutting into him. Gently, she touched the blade to his skin and made herself slide it. Watched it cut, bleed, heal. She reached for another blade, and then another. Each knife cut easily, and each cut healed completely before she could bring another blade to his skin.

This time it was Maze who pronounced it fascinating. And then, in true Maze fashion, kinky. More to the point, she didn’t know what it meant either. Which is why she’d called Linda after speaking to Chloe. 

They heard the elevator arrive, and then Linda walked into the room.

“Ok, somebody catch me up.”


	8. All hail the queen

Maze and Chloe retreated to the bar to give them some privacy, though Lucifer had made it clear on many occasions that he didn’t need it. He gestured to Linda to sit down and not knowing how to start, settled on a demonstration. He reached for the hell blade still sitting on the coffee table and pressed it into his arm.

Nothing. No blood, no cut, no reaction from Linda. He directed her attention to his arm, then used the blade again.

“Is that what I think it is?” she finally offered.

“It’s a hell blade, yes.”

They sat in silence for a second, considering.

“Even before Chloe and this thing between us, I was vulnerable to hell blades. Even when nothing else could touch me. Weapons forged in heaven and hell have always been able to wound me. Until now.”

“What do you think it means?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know and it’s driving me crazy. I’m – afraid. Afraid of what it means for Chloe and I.”

“Why are you afraid?”

“We figured out I was vulnerable around her because I love her. If I’m not vulnerable anymore, then -maybe it means -” but he couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

With a nod, Linda didn’t give him time to dwell on the rest of the words and instead asked him bluntly:

“Lucifer, I know love is still a bit new to you, but you know how it feels now. Put down the knife and forget about your arm for a moment. Set aside the fear and focus on how you feel. Do you still love Chloe?”

He threw the knife on the table, leaned back into the sofa and let his gaze drift to Chloe. She was sipping at some fruity drink and looking embarrassed but pleased with herself. He let himself focus on her, and a feeling like a deep sigh rippled through his body, relaxing and softening something deep inside. He couldn’t see it, and didn’t know it was there, but a sappy smile settled on his face, and his eyes went all dreamy, telling Linda all she needed to know before he finally came back to her, straightened his coat and nodded.

“Yes. More than I thought I could.”

“Okay, then. That’s not it. Now that we know your love is safe, let’s try to work out what it really means.”

Lucifer excused himself for a moment to grab a drink and returned in full back to business mode.

“So, what else has been going on? What has changed since the last time we talked that might have some connection with this?”

“Not much, really. The usual. Solving cases, catching bad guys, telling Chloe about Hell, hanging out with Trixie.”

“Hang on, now. Telling Chloe about Hell? Elaborate.”

“Well, we figured out that it was not a good idea for me to become human. For many reasons. Among them that Chloe believes she’ll end up in Hell eventually, even if not initially.”

“Why does she think that?”

“She said that dad would judge her over the prayer incident, and that when he talks to her she will have a few things to say about his treatment of me. Historically, challenging dad’s decisions doesn’t end well. So, she figures she’ll end up in Hell. And as I’m banished from Heaven there’s nowhere but Hell for me to go, so the reasoning is at least if I’m king, I have control over what happens to us.”

“That seems reasonable. So, you’re telling her about Hell to what? Prepare her?”

“Well, she’ll need to be ready if she’s going to be taken seriously as the queen.”

Linda nodded thoughtfully as if he hadn’t just skipped about 4 steps.

“So it’s more or less job training? How’s that going?”

“Very well, actually,” he leaned back and crossed his legs, “she’s taking it all better than I could have expected. She is a homicide detective, and I’m sure that helps, but still it has been a bit of a revelation, her willingness to let me lead her on this, tell her how things are, and what she’ll have to contend with. And her willingness to prepare for and contend with it.”

“So you’re basically telling her all the things you tried so hard to hide from her for years. And instead of eroding your relationship, it’s preparing her to face hell with you when the time comes. Hell will likely be a very different experience for you with a partner by your side. How do you feel about that?”

“A bit conflicted, if I’m honest. Part of me will be happy enough to be there if that’s where Chloe is. But I never wanted her to see Hell at all, much less be there for eternity. Although, it might not be all of eternity, if Amenadiel manages to convince dad to let Chloe go visit her family in Heaven from time to time.”

“Is she scared?” Linda wanted to know.

“She’s handling it better than I am,” he admitted. “The only thing she seems to be worried about is that she’ll make me vulnerable in Hell. Was, now, I suppose.”

“Lucifer, why do you think your love for Chloe made you vulnerable?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe love just does that. To everyone. It’s just that for humans emotional vulnerability doesn’t manifest on a physical level. And humans are already so vulnerable, physically, they probably wouldn’t notice if it did.”

“You’re probably not wrong about that, actually. But what I mean is, love makes us vulnerable because we crave it so deeply that when we find it we are almost always afraid. Afraid of losing it, afraid of getting hurt by it, afraid of not being good enough and messing it up. It’s so precious and so hard to find.”

Lucifer nodded along, acknowledging the truth of that, at least for him.

“I think your love made you vulnerable around Chloe because you were afraid she’d see or learn something of the truth. That maybe you might need to do something that would reveal you were not who she thought you were. That maybe the things that other people did with you would tip her off. You thought of yourself as a monster, and you didn’t want her to really know that part of you, to fear you.”

She could see he was about to object, so she signaled him to wait and continued.

“Even after she knew who you are, there were so many things you didn’t want her to know. You didn’t want her to go to Hell. Yes, because Hell has always been a joyless place where human souls suffer and you didn’t want that for her, but also because Hell shaped you into that monster you thought you were. Maybe you thought if Chloe saw it she would know what it really meant, and lose faith in you. That if she saw it, and you in it, she’d see in you what you saw in yourself.”

His expression changed, and she knew he wasn’t preparing an argument now, but really listening.

“Maybe even afraid that being there would change you back into someone she couldn’t love. Afraid of watching the love in her eyes die. But here you are, and you told her all about the deepest, darkest pits of despair. You faced the fact that you will eventually go back, one way or another, and tried to scare her into not going with you. And she’s not running away. The love hasn’t dimmed. She wants to go, she’s getting ready to go, preparing to fight alongside you.”

She forgot to be the therapist for a moment and the brightest smile he’d ever seen took over her face.

“I think you’re not vulnerable because you’re not afraid. There’s nothing she could see here, or overhear, that would change anything. She knows what there is to know. You’re still vulnerable to her, and you always will be. The people we love have special access, as it were, and because they do they can hurt us in ways that no one else can. But when it’s good – when love is true, honest, dependable - it also makes us stronger. That’s why nobody else can cut you. That’s why you can’t even cut yourself. Even Hell can’t touch you through the shield of true love in your soul. You love her. She loves you. All of you. Even the scary bits. That knowledge protects you, heals you, in ways you didn’t know you needed to heal.”

oOo

Linda and Maze had left, and it was just the two of them. Chloe had gone to call Dan to say goodnight to Trixie, and Lucifer stood in front of the window, looking down on the city lights. It was not unlike sitting on Hell’s throne, looking down at the cells where human souls tortured themselves for eternity. Ironic, that this was both the furthest he could get away from Hell and so like it, once you got past the surface.

He saw her reflection bringing him the phone so he could say his goodnight to Trixie. He still didn’t know what Hell with Chloe would be like. But he knew that if he was stronger with her, and if she was the only one who could hurt him now, that would grant her special status. A little demonstration would be all that was required. Let them find out they couldn’t hurt him now, not even with hell blades, and then see that Chloe could, and they would fear her as much as they feared him. They could make whatever rules they liked, and they would be obeyed.

He turned to take the phone from her hand, dropping a kiss on her wrist in return. Trixie was going on about something that happened at school, and Lucifer turned back to the window, watching in the refection how Chloe leaned against his shoulder with a quiet smile on her face, sharing the amusement. Eventually, Trixie stopped.

“Anyway,” she cleared her throat. “Good night, mommy.”

“Good night, Spawn,” Lucifer replied.

And Trixie giggled before hanging up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now, everyone. I imagine season 5 should be out soon, and I'll have plenty of fixes, I suspect. But for now I'm going to give this storyline a rest and pay attention to a different fandom. Thanks for reading!


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